


Together Arranged

by Rachel_Lu



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Falling In Love, Marriage of Convenience, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5957689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel_Lu/pseuds/Rachel_Lu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Princess Rose Tyler of the kingdom of Powell is engaged to be married to prince John of Gallifrey.  The problem is, they've never met, and Rose is rather afraid she won't like him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ANOTHER AU. I've had two ideas for Royalty AUs and this is the first one-the second one will be more modern and I'm really very excited for both. Enjoy!

Rose was pacing and also livid, her flowing red dress billowing about her feet.  Her arms were crossed and her lady in waiting, Donna, was watching her tiredly.

"Come, my lady, you  _must,"_ Donna pleaded.

"Oh?  And what if I hate him?" Rose replied, "What if he's awful, a true... Animal!" She threw her hands up and sat heavily on top of her trunk.  It was fully packed, stuffed with lovely things.  She was off to meet her future husband, Prince John of Gallifrey.  His portraits were lovely, but Rose had never spoke to him.  She didn't know what he was like, or who he was.  Honestly, the whole arrangement did nothing but anger her. 

"You won't hate him, my lady," Donna promised, trying her best not to get angry.  "I've met the Prince, he's kind and generous and... Oh, you'll love him."

"I have to, don't I?" Rose huffed.

"Yes, ma'am," Donna chirped, and stood up.  "Come now, let's go."

Queen Jackie Tyler busted through the doors, looking for her daughter.  "Rose Tyler, let's get a move on, your father is in the carriage waiting for us."  

Rose forced herself not to roll her eyes and got to her feet next to Donna.  "Yes, mother," she said, walking towards the door.  Donna gave her charge a little pat of assurance on the shoulder.  The three women left the room as a servant squeezed by to collect Rose's trunk.

"Donna, would you please escort my daughter to the carriage?  I must attend to a few other things," Jackie said airily.  She seemed a touch distracted, and Rose was used to it.  

"Yes, Your Majesty," Donna replied.  She took Rose by the elbow and led her down the winding staircases of the castle.  She looked over her shoulder to see that Queen Jackie was not following them and murmured to Rose, "And just between you and me, they say that the women of Gallifrey all wanted to be with him, so you're a bit lucky."

Rose sighed.  "I hope so."

***********

Once everyone was put in the carriages (and properly angry because it was such a tight fit) they set on the day long trip to Gallifrey.  Rose sat, sandwiched between her mother and her father, and tried not to fume too loudly.  Her father, King Peter, gave her a a worried look over his shoulder. 

"Rose, are you quite alright?" He asked.

She gave a curt not.  "Fine," she replied noncommittally.  "Just wondering why I've never met my  _husband_ before today."

Jackie sighed.  "Oh, Rose, you know why.  He was someone you had to meet at nineteen, when both of you were fully matured.  It wouldn't do for him to shove bugs down your dress when you were young and have that make you resent him when you were older."

"I wouldn't resent him for something like that," Rose retorted, rolling her eyes.  "That's foolish."

"I think you'll recall that children can, at times, be foolish," Peter said gently.  

Rose flopped back in her seat, blowing her cheeks out and crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Oh, posture, Rose, please," Jackie said, exasperated. 

************

They arrived at Gallifrey at supper time.  Rose was tired from the journey and hungry and inexplicably angry.  She got out of the carriage, letting the footman lead her out.  She offered him a thank you and stretched, cracking her knuckles as she did so.

"Oh, Rose, what have I said about that?" Jackie said mournfully, "it's disgusting."

Rose cracked another knuckle in response.

"Oh, hello, hello!" The Queen of Gallifrey ran down the stairs of their palace and embraced Jackie, kissing her cheeks and curtsying to King Peter.  She walked to Rose and took her hands in hers.  "Oh, Rose, you are more beautiful than your portaits depicted."

"Thank you, your Majesty," Rose replied warmly, offering the other woman a smile.  "It's very nice to meet you."

"Oh, and you as well!" The Queen smiled widely, "Prince John will be ecstatic to meet you," she leaned forward as if sharing gossip with a peer.  "Between you and me, he's been primping all morning because he's afraid you won't find him attractive."

Rose couldn't help the smile at the prospect of her fiance trying to look nice for her.  "Oh, I don't think that will be a problem, your Majesty, I've seen his portraits," Rose said, trying not to make her voice tight.

She wasn't sure about this marriage business, almost angered by it, but the Queen of Gallifrey seemed so excited that it was hard for her to continue sulking.  The Queen squeezed her hands and dropped them.  "Come inside for supper, the servants will take your trunks to your rooms, don't worry about all that."

"Thank you," King Peter said warmly, and they all made their way into the palace, chatting together as they did so. 

"John will be down in a moment," the King of Gallifrey assured them as he greeted them inside.  "I assure you his manners are firmly in place and he's wearing his crown for a change!"

"Oh, Rose, I told you it was a good thing that you were wearing yours," Queen Jackie chirped excitedly.  "Don't rush him, loves, I'm sure it will be just fine."

A servant came before all of them, bowing deeply.  "Now presenting, Princess Rose Marion Tyler's fiance, Prince John Smith of Gallifrey."

John looked rather embarrassed to be being introduced.  He entered the room as a prince would, though, his head held high, and Rose had to admit that he was a bit of alright, very good looking.  When he met her eyes he gave her a nervous smile and reached his hand out for her.  She put her hand in his and curtsied as he bowed to her.  He brought her hand to his lips, following through the motions, kissing her knuckles without meeting her eyes, a sign of respect.  What wasn't ceremony, though, was how he stroked his thumb over her fingers before he let it drop. 

She refused to like him.  She knew there was plenty of courting to be done, and her parents would only stay in Gallifrey for two days before letting their daughter get acquainted with her betrothed.  She half wished she could run back with them, and half wished she wasn't a princess at all.  There was no telling she would like this man at all.  She offered him a reassuring smile.

"Prince John," She said warmly.

"Princess Rose," he replied, "You look absolutely lovely tonight. Allow me to escort you to supper?"

The lines felt rehearsed, as if they'd been practicing them their whole lives.  He extended the crook of his arm to her and she slipped her arm through his.  "You may," She said formally, only offering a tight grin.  He seemed so relaxed, even if he was a bit nervous.

"Oh, excellent!" The Queen of Gallifrey said from behind her hands, where she was no doubt grinning like an idiot.  Both families were staring at the couple, both filled with absolute pride.  

John shifted uncomfortably next to Rose and gestured before him.  "Go on, then, precede us."

Everyone seemed to remember simultaneously that they were kings and queens and did indeed walk in front of the couple.  John let out a little sigh as he led Rose a few paces behind everyone else.  Rose turned her head to look at him, to memorize him.  He had a noble profile, but his eyes looked sad.  She decided not to think anything of it and faced the back of her mother's head again.

"How long will your parents be staying, Princess Rose?" John asked her formally, not making eye contact with her.  He was stiff with professionalism and it made Rose want to roll her eyes, which she luckily resisted.

"Two days," She told him, "They are not to be here for the courting process, if you recall."

"Ah, yes, foolish of me to forget," he said, as though legitimately chastising himself.  "I don't suppose you would like a tour of the gardens tomorrow?"

Rose fought down a sigh.  He was wasting no time, and, though she couldn't say she blamed him, she was almost irritated by it.  "Yes, I would love to," she said tightly, with just as much stiffness in her voice as his. 

"Oh, oh that's wonderful!" She could hear the grin in his voice that he quickly tamped down.  "You'll love the gardens, they're very well kept and beautiful."

"I'm sure they are," Rose replied, "I'm sure you were told that I enjoy painting."

"I'm sure you were told that I do as well."

"Yes.  Perhaps we could have easels taken out there, weather permitting."

If she was honest, she was hoping both of them would get caught up enough in painting that they wouldn't have to talk to each other.  He was nice enough, she supposed, but there were plenty of nice people that she didn't want to marry.  She suspected John would be rather the same.  

"I think that is a wonderful idea, Princess Rose."

They made it to dining hall just behind their chatting parents, who had hit it off smashingly and were already the best of friends.  The dinging hall was massive, covered in tapestries with candles mounted carefully away from them.  Rose found it far more grand than their own dining hall, mostly because Gallifrey was a more lavish kingdom.  Not that Powell was poor, but Gallifrey was certainly not hurting for money.  She glanced up at the ceiling, a giant crystal chandelier handing from it.  Rose let out a gentle breath that she refused to see as a gasp.  

"If you think this is too much, you should see the ballroom," John said close to Rose's ear.  She almost jumped with how close he was to her, how close to improper it was, but instead turned to him.

 "Yes, it is a bit extravagant."

He wrinkled his nose.  "I know," he said, "I hate it.  I wish we ate at the kitchen like the regular families do."  

"Regular meaning peasants?" 

"Yes."

She looked at him.  "That's what you really want?" She asked, "To be a commoner?"

He shook his head, "No, just to be... A family, every once in a while.  That's all I want."

The words "Well, we could do that," came out of her before she could stop herself.

John gave her a startled look and them smiled widely at her.  "That would be  _wonderful,_ Princess Rose," he said softly, sounding terribly vulnerable.

She felt almost guilty about what she said, because she wasn't sure she really meant them.  She bit her lip and turned towards the table.  Catching on, he led her to a seat, pulling the chair out for her.  She took a seat and offered him a smile.  He sat next to her, next to the head of the table where his father sat.  The Queen of Gallifrey sat across from John, with King Peter across from Rose and Queen Jackie next to her husband. 

"Well," The King of Gallifrey grinned at who would soon be his family.  "I rather think we should use this time to get to know each other, don't you?"

 


	2. Chapter 2

Supper wasn’t awful, as Rose had suspected it would be.  The King and queen of Gallifrey were kind and seemed to be genuinely interested in her.  Of course, she reminded herself that they were probably so attentive because she was marrying their son. 

John, for his part, was very kind to her, offering her anything that came across the table, offering her smiles and telling her about his childhood.  He seemed to like her, or was at least attracted to her.  She flushed a little at the thought.  She’d been in the company of men before, but none had been allowed to show their interest, if they had any at all.  John, on the other hand, was expected to.

“I hope the trip wasn’t too strenuous,” The Queen of Gallifrey asked worriedly, “I know it can be rather difficult to get here.”

“It was fine,” Queen Jackie assured her, “Hardly a bump.”

Rose grew tired of the conversation quickly.  No one ever talked about anything important, it was all small talk.  She hoped that if she was to talk to John, she would have a satisfying conversation with him.  Something with depth, if nothing else.  That was really all she wanted. 

The giant grandfather clock out in the hall chimed nine times, and the occupants of the table all looked at each other, startled.  Of course, none of them had anticipated staying at dinner so late, but the Kings and Queens laughed.

“Oh, I think time has escaped us,” King Peter laughed.  He looked around at the people sitting before them.

“Perhaps we should retire to the drawing room, and leave our children with a chaperone so they can speak a bit more,” The Queen of Gallifrey suggested.

Queen Jackie smiled, “That’s a lovely idea.  Shall we?”

The four adults left, leaving only John and Rose in the massive room with a servant standing in the far corner of the room, looking sheepish.  The quiet seemed to settle upon both of them like a heavy weight.  Rose shifted awkwardly and John cleared his throat.

“We could take a lantern and walk around in the gardens, if you wanted,” John suggested bashfully.

Rose considered.  She could shoot up to her guest room and pretend he’d never said anything, or she could go with him.  She was going to have to marry him anyway, after all, she should at least try to like him.  Sighing inwardly, she nodded slightly.  “Alright,” she agreed, “Might as well.”

“Oh.  You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” John said quietly, as though he had already accepted the notion of being rejected.  Rose, against her will, felt her tender heart go out to him and she laid a hand over his on the table.

“I’d like to, Prince John.”

He looked over at her, smiling softly, and gestured for her to stand.  She stood, and he stood with her, pulling her chair out for her so she could rise easily.  The servant nodded to them and disappeared into another room.  He returned a second later with a lantern and handed it to John with a low bow.

“Thank you,” John said warmly, “Will you be accompanying us, then?”

The servant nodded, “Yes, sir, I will follow you through the gardens to make sure no incidents befall you and Princess Rose.”

John gave the servant a skeptical look, knowing the real reason behind the chaperones.  He wasn’t a child, after all, and neither was Rose.  “Right, of course,” he said slowly.  “Shall we be off, then?”

Rose nodded at John’s inquisitive glance, and she tucked her arm through his as he led them out of the dining room and through the lavish back door. 

The gardens were beautiful, even in the dark of the night, the only light being the stars and the nearly full moon.  She squeezed John’s arm subconsciously as she took in the colors, muted by the dark.  The servant hurried to light John’s lantern and then stood a few respectful steps behind them. 

“Now then, Princess Rose, tell me about yourself,” John said casually, as though they weren’t engaged, that they were just two commoners getting to know each other.

Rose hummed in the back of her throat and peered about the gardens as they set off down the dimly illuminated footpath, shown light by John’s lantern.  She lifted a shoulder, rubbing it against his in the progress.  “There’s not much to tell, Prince John,” She replied formally.  “Really, none at all.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” John scoffed.  “You proved at dinner that you are clever and kind and… I’m sorry, I’m making you uncomfortable.”

Rose couldn’t suppress the smile that crossed her face.  “You’re not, I’ve just never been spoken to in such a way.”

“Your people are not kind to you?”

“They are very kind,” Rose corrected, “Really, they are, but I am not very connected to the kingdom.  A princess’s duties lie inside the home, to be married to a prince.”

John murmured “Ah,” under his breath.

“It’s nothing against you,” She said, “You’re lovely.”

“Thank you,” he said curtly, if a little coldly.

“I’m messing this up,” she said, touching her hand delicately to her forehead.  “I don’t mean to make you feel less, really, I’m sorry.”

He offered her a smile.  “It’s really alright,” he promised her, “Don’t worry too much about it, please.”

“No, I’ve made you upset.”

He takes his free hand and covers hers where it rests in the crook of his arm.  “It’s alright,” he says quietly, the only sound the one of their footfalls on the ground. 

Rose lets her eyes wander as she feels miserable and guilty, looking around at the beautiful trees that look nearly silver in the moonlight.  It’s beautiful and serene and she’s never seen any place look so peaceful in her entire life. 

John is silent next to her, but not coldly so.  He is gentle, she can feel it, and he is _kind._ But there is something behind it all that makes him intriguing and lovely to her.  She mentally shakes herself, giving herself a sharp ‘no’.  She is _not_ to become a damsel in distress.  She is not to succumb to his charms, she’s sure plenty of women already have and would gladly have him.  She feels selfish to take him from some other woman, even if it is not her choice.

“Tell me about you,” Rose says when the silence becomes too much. 

“You haven’t told me about you yet.”

“Well, to be quite fair, I told you there was nothing to tell,” Rose replies, a bit surprised at how easy it is to throw banter back and forth with him.

He laughs quietly and she feels warmth she hadn’t expected to feel shoot through her.  It’s unfair that his laugh be so inviting and intimate, like he was made to laugh just for her.  She has to stop herself from kissing him on the cheek, and the randomness of the thought scares her.

“I said I didn’t believe you,” he replies, bringing her back to reality.  “I want to know what you did in Powell.”

Rose is quiet for a moment as they turn a corner and go down another section of the garden.  She scans the new plants, exotic and brilliant in the moonlight, and then turns her attention to his face.  His profile looks even nobler in the muted light, and he turns his head to meet her gaze, slowing their gait.  She tilts her head to the side.  “I like to read.  But sometimes I get headaches and I can’t for long periods of time.”

His eyes spark with something very much like excitement.  He grinned at her.  “Oh, I love to read!” He said enthusiastically.  “I like to recite, but of course, there’s no one to recite to.”  He looked at her appraisingly.  “Perhaps I could read to you and prevent your headaches?”

Rose blinked, not having expected that particular suggestion.  However, she was all for saving herself headaches, and so she nodded slowly.  “I’d like that, Prince John, thank you.  That’s very kind of you.”

“I think you’ll find that I try to be as kind as possible,” he said.

She smiled at him.  “Tomorrow, then?”

“Yes, I should rather like that.”

They finished their walk about the gardens, John explaining certain plants she’d never seen before and intriguing her beyond what she thought was possible.  She’d never been interested in plants, but all of a sudden, here she was, enjoying his low voice rumbling through her arm where it was pressed to the sides of his ribs.  He walked her inside and blew out the light in the lantern and handed the lantern to the servant, thanking him softly.

“Would you allow me to escort you to your quarters?” He asked politely. 

“If someone could fetch my lady in waiting, Miss Donna Noble, yes, I would like that,” Rose responded just a primly.  He kept her arm hooked in his as he gave instructions to find Donna to a servant and walked her up to her quarters, a servant ten paces behind them, his hands clasped in front of them.

“I think the things I’ve heard about you have not done you justice,” John said with wonder, “Not to mention you are much lovelier than your portraits.”

Rose colored lightly and let her gaze drop as he turned to face her.  She looked up at him.  “I think you’ll find I am not as intriguing as you think I am.”

“I respectfully disagree.”

Rose laughed, unable to help it.  “Goodnight then, Prince John.  We shall meet on the morrow?”

“For morning meal, I should hope,” he said sincerely.  He took her hand in his and brought her knuckles to his lips, pressed a kiss to them.  He lowered her hand slowly, waiting a moment before releasing it.  “Goodnight, Princess Rose.”

He left her then, and she was left feeling a little dizzy without knowing why.  She went into her quarters and Donna met her there a few short minutes later and worked on undoing Rose’s hair.

“You liked him, then?” She asked.

Rose rolled her eyes.  “Oh, I don’t know.  He’s very kind.”

Donna squealed.  “You like him!”

“Well, Donna, even if I didn’t I’d have to pretend to,” Rose said.

“Oh, my lady, I think you should really give him an honest chance,” she affectionately patted her charge’s face.  “You have a bit of a habit of closing off.”

Rose sniffed.  “It shall be what it shall be, Donna.”

“Give it a chance, then, Princess, promise me that.”

Rose remembered his warm eyes and kind demeanor and the solid feel of him against her side and she nodded slowly.  “Alright, I will.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Donna was awake when Rose was just starting to stir, the light streaming in through the large window in her quarters.  She stretched and rolled over again in bed, ignoring Donna's call for her to get up.  She buried her head in the pillow and hummed in the back of her throat, clearing the sleep from it without speaking.

"Come on, my lady, we must be up for morning meal," Donna said patiently.  "Your Prince and your family will be waiting."

Rose remembered how he looked last night, how beautiful he was, and groaned angrily before burying her head in the pillow again.  She didn't want to like him, she didn't want to admit to herself that he was a good man that she could see herself with him already.  It scared her.  She ignored Donna as she continued to talk and pull out Rose's clothes for the day. 

"Princess Rose, please," Donna was quickly losing her patience, and Rose felt herself being very childish, but she couldn't stop herself.  

"I don't want to," Rose replied, "I'm tired."

"You weren't out late with your Prince, so I don't see why you should be tired," Donna snapped.  "Come on, Princess, up, up!" She grabbed Rose's arm and pulled her away from the pillow.  "I think you'll remember that you don't really have a choice in the matter."

Oh, did she remember.  She knew her parents would be livid if she didn't arrive at the morning meal, and the Prince would be wondering what he'd done wrong, which was of course nothing.  He was doing everything right and that was what made her nervous.  She finally sat up, her hair tousled and eyes sleep rimmed.  She rubbed her eyes and looked up at Donna.  "Alright, I'm awake," she mumbled.

Donna dressed Rose in a light pink dress that cinched just below her breasts and flowed out from there, with several layers of gauzy, light material that highlighted her skin in very lovely ways.  The sleeves of the dress flared at the elbows and made their way all the way to her calves.  She then sat on the bed as Donna brushed her hair and pulled two tiny braids from the front of her head and tied them together at the nape of her neck.  Donna fluffed the rest of her hair and settled it around her shoulders.  "My lady, you look lovely," she said fondly.  She gave Rose a pair of light pink slippers, which she put on readily.  Once that was done, Donna laid her delicate tiara on her blonde head, and Rose tried to pretend it wasn't there.

"Don't be nervous," Donna told her, smoothing the shoulders of her dress.  "Everything will be fine."

"I'm not nervous," Rose replied, "I met him last night."

"But you'll be with him all day today," Donna reminded her, "That's a bit different."

Rose nodded and looked away.  "Yes, it is a bit different.  Thank you, Donna."

"It's my pleasure, my lady."

Donna escorted Rose down to the dinging hall, leaving her when her parents met her.  Queen Jackie thanked Donna and reached out to her daughter, grabbing her shoulders.  "Oh, Rose, you look lovely!"

"Thank you, mother."

King Peter smiled at his daughter and tossed her a wink before the King and Queen of Gallifrey entered with their son.  Prince John smiled widely at her and she couldn't help but smile back at him.  She was glad, then, that she decided not to stay in bed, it was very much worth it to see the happy look on his face.  He approached her and pulled her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles that lingered a bit longer than the ones he'd given her the night before.  She met his gaze and gave him a nod and he greeted her as their parents talked animatedly.

"I trust you slept well, Princess Rose."

"I did, Prince John, thank you."

Although he came off as a touch awkward, his speaking skills were impeccable, and she wondered if he'd had a tutor for it.  "I'm glad.  I've had the servants take out easels and paints for us once morning meal is finished.  I think you'll find that the weather will rather suit our needs, and it's quite warm."

"That sounds wonderful."

He held his arm out for her and she took it before following their parents into the dining hall.  They all sat at the same seats as before, chatting and laughing like they were all very old friends.  Rose had to admit that the atmosphere at Gallifrey was rather lovely and she couldn't quite bring herself to be miserable.  John kept looking at her, and she wondered if she had gotten something on her face.

Their parents wanted to chaperone them in the gardens, and although Rose had to try very hard not to roll her eyes, she and the Prince agreed and they set off to the gardens.  Luckily, the Kings and Queens sent a far enough distance away from the couple that they could speak (Somewhat) freely with each other.  

"Don't look at my painting until I'm finished," he warned her, and she giggled a little in response. 

"Alright, have it your way," Rose said, "Maybe I won't look at it at all," she added with fake airs.

"Oh, no, you have to see it, just not until I'm done," he protested, "Promise?"

She looked over and steadily held his gaze.  His eyes were nearly captivating with how vulnerable they were.  She swallowed and nodded, trying not to get sucked into him.  It would be so easy to get immersed in him, and she wouldn't mind it, to her shock.  "Yes, I promise," she said, and moved to look at her own easel.  The paints were set up with care on a little table next to the easel, and there were brushes arranged in size order next to them.  She turned her gaze to the white canvas before her and hummed a little in speculation.

"Are we lacking inspiration already?" John teased her.

She smiled and looked at him, "So, if I'm not allowed to look at yours, then you are not allowed to look at mind, Prince John."

He arched an eyebrow at her, "Well, you and I, Princess Rose, may have a battle of the wits."

"I would thoroughly enjoy that."

He let out a light laugh and turned himself to his painting, and she to hers.  

They painted for hours, the flow of their brushed becoming almost irrelevant as they spoke.  He was very easy to talk to, and they found themselves discussing their lives before they'd met each other.  Both their experiences were limited and she found that his were even more so than hers.  Perhaps it was because Gallifrey was so much bigger than Powell.  He was always being watched and guarded, even if he was playing with his cousins, which were the only other children he was allowed to interact with.  Rose, on the other hand, had been allowed to play with the children of any nobility and as a result had quite a few friends.

"Well, Prince John, it really is a wonder that you didn't grow up to be a stern man with a stick up his back," she said, only biting her lip after the words had escaped her.  She suspected she shouldn't have said it, but when he laughed next to her, she breathed again.

"I suppose people do not often expect me to be kind," he admitted.  "Decisions are not easy to make around here, they always seem to come with a price."

"Most things do."

He nodded.  "That's true.  But many decisions are not ones that a man wants to make."

She resisted the urge to look over at him and instead tried to force curiosity through her voice.  "Have you had to make many decisions as the Prince?"

"More than you think," he said softly, "I was put in charge of certain cities and towns for awhile.  My parents were trying to get me to open up to the people and get used to ruling, but some of those cities have been problematic.  I've had to make decisions with prisoners that I didn't think I would have to."

She was quiet for a moment and slowly nodded.  "Life and death?" She asked, barely above a whisper.

"Life and death," he replied.

"I would..." She cleared her throat, "I would hug you, but our parents are watching."

He laughed, shattering the solemn mood with the sound that she was quickly identifying as beautiful.  "Later, then?" He asked, almost tentatively.

"When you read to me in the library, we'll see," Rose replied airily, turning her nose up.

He glanced over at her way and she snapped her gaze his way.  "No looking!" She said.

"Well, I'm quite done, you can look at mine," he said easily.  

She let her eyes slide over to his canvas, and she saw her own delicate profile looking back at her.  Her eyes were cast downward and their was a light smile on her painted recreation.  He had captured the garden behind her, but had muted it, focusing on details of her more than the flowers and trees.

"Oh," she said softly, moving from her stool to stand at his side.  "Prince John, it's beautiful," she told him honestly.

He looked bashful under her scrutiny.  "Thank you.  I meant to paint the garden, but..." He turned to look at her.  "You look beautiful."

She smiled at him.  "This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has every done," she said, a little shocked at the gesture.

He furrowed his brows at her.  "Well, you can expect plenty more of this from me, Princess Rose," he promised.

Rose clenched her fists at her side and flexed them again.  She was struggling to fight the urge to hug him.  He was just so kind, was he doing that on purpose or was that genuinely how it was?

"Well, I certainly hope it continues," She said, smiling at him.  "And I hope to return the favor."

He grinned up at her, lighting the garden with it.  "Absolutely."

She sat back at her painting and stared at the portrait of the scene before her.  Somehow, it didn't seem as lovely as the words he'd just spoke to her.  She wrung her hands before reaching for a brush.  Really, it was too soon for her to be interested in him, but here she was, feeling drawn to him.  She was a little nervous, but when she looked over at him again, she couldn't help but feel that there was something right about it. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't quite stop writing today, so here's a bit more!

Prince John watched her paint until her painting was finished and servants took them inside to dry.  He watched her as she cleaned her brushes and set them back where she had found them.  She looked up at him and grinned. 

“Would you like to go to the library now?” He asked, “I believe I promised to prevent your headaches.”

She cocked her head at him and watched him.  She nodded slowly.  “Alright,” she said, “I’ll have Donna fetch my needlepoint for me and I can work on that while you read.”

“Won’t that give you a headache too?” He asked, his brows furrowing slightly.

She lifted a shoulder, replacing the final brush in its spot.  “Yes, maybe, but not as bad as reading,” she said.  “Really, I’ll be fine, please stop looking worried.”

He smiled and held his arm out to her.  She slid her arm into his, farther than she had before, pressing her side close to his arm.  He seemed to notice, tugging her a bit closer to him.  She felt a little shiver run through her as she clung to him and John turned over his shoulder to look at their parents, and, seeing that they were busy, tugged Rose into the palace without them.

“The chaperones,” Rose stated, gesturing back to her parents.

“They’ll catch up,” John said dismissively.  “I want you to see the library.”

She laughed and walked with him as he led her down the lavish corridors of Gallifrey Palace, their footfall the only ones to be heard.  Rose couldn’t stop herself from staring, even though she’d stayed in the palace the night before.  It was so much bigger than Powell Palace, and she was beginning to wonder how she’d been arranged with John at all.  He was clearly more powerful than she, and for that very reason she couldn’t understand why they picked her and not a wealthier kingdom with a wealthier princess.

However, some part of her felt glad that they were paired together.  She’d arrived at Gallifrey Palace not wanting to get close to John, but now she felt herself wanting to know everything about him as fast as humanly possible.  And with the way he’d pulled them away from their parents, he wanted to get to know her without all the distractions around.

Oh, she understood.  The Kings and Queens, while loving, were very strict, and there was a time when two young people wanted to be alone, as inappropriate as it was.  She slid her hand along his arm until it met his hand and their fingers intertwined.  John didn’t seem to know what to do for a moment before letting their hands dropped, clasped together between them.

“You didn’t like me, when you first got here,” John said as they walked down a long hallway with deep crimson carpet. 

Rose looked at him a little guiltily, “I didn’t want to like you,” She admitted.  “I think you’re brilliant, really.”

“I hope to prove myself to you.”

“I _do_ like you, Prince John, please don’t think that I don’t.”

Prince John squeezed her hand.  “Really, I believe you,” he told her quietly, “But I feel as though I should mention something to you.”

Rose watched him curiously.  “And what’s that?”

He almost didn’t say anything, he seemed to be afraid to.  “You know how you would receive portraits of me, every year, and I would receive one of you?”

“Yes,” Rose nodded, “I do recall.”

“I was…  Well, I was became besotted with you when I received the one from about four years ago.  And when I say besotted, I’m dead serious.  I became sort of obsessed with…. You.”

Rose arched an eyebrow at him.  “Oh, no, there was something else you were going to say, what was it?”

“Here,” he murmured, “Let’s wait until we get into the library, shall we?”

He was quiet, but not overly so as he led her to a giant mahogany door with a heavy brass handle.  He pushed it open grandly.  “Princess Rose Marion Tyler, let me introduce you to my library, my solace.”

Rose let go of his hand as she stepped forward into the frankly magnificent library.  It was beautiful, really, shelves upon shelves of books, all the way to the high ceiling.  There was a ladder to find a book that was needed and on the top shelf, and plush green settees to sit on.  Throw rugs scattered along the enormous room, and she found herself utterly entranced by the whole thing.  On the walls where there weren’t shelves, there were giant bay windows, letting in enough sunlight to read by. 

John came up behind her after closing the door, smoothing his palms down her arms.  It was clear the action made him nervous, his hands were shaking slightly, and without thinking, she leaned back into him.  She heard him sigh with what she supposed was relief and felt him press his nose into her hair. 

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, “This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen.”

He hummed against her head and let his grip tighten on her slightly.

Her eyelids fluttered shut as she felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster in her chest, threatening to burst out through her ribs.  He gently pulled away from her and took her hand, pulling her to the couch.  “Have a seat,” he said softly, “I’ll bring us a book.  Which sort of book would you like?”

“Give me a personal recommendation of yours,” she replied, turning to look at him as he looked through a low row of books.  He pulled one and held it up for her to look at.  “It’s a mystery novel, by the way, if that’s alright.”

She smiled and nodded as he sat next to her on the couch.  “I love mysteries,” she said. “Oh, I haven’t got my needlepoint.”

“Well, you’ll just have to sit back and listen to me talk, then,” he said, his voice full of mirth.  “Besides, if Donna brought your needlepoint, your parents would know we’d escaped.”

“Escaped?” Rose giggled, “You make it sound as though they were horrible creatures.”

John threw a grin her way.  “Well, my parents sure are.”

“I rather thought your parents were nice,” Rose replied, furrowing her brows.

John made a noncommittal sound.  “They were good enough to me as a child,” he said, “But, to be quite honest with you, they didn’t raise me.  The servants did.”

“Oh,” Rose said softly.  “Well, I suppose that’s the best part of being the Princess of a smaller kingdom.”

John reached his hand over and touched her cheek gently.  “You must have come out so kind because of them being with you when you needed them most.”

She tilted her head, pushing into his touch, encouraging him to cup her face in his palm more fully.  He shifted so they were more facing each other than sitting next to each other, the book behind him on the couch.  He was watching her intently, something molten heat behind his eyes, but still so gentle she could weep from it. 

“There was something you were going to say you were besotted with about me,” Rose said, quite out of breath and for no reason at all.

“It was very much you,” John said, “All of you, you shone through those portraits, you smiled and you were beautiful and you seemed very kind.”

She could hear both of them breathing in the quiet of the library, both of them feeling as though they were soaring and not quite knowing why.  She moved one of her hands to rest on his shoulder, needing to touch him somewhere.  He shuddered under her touch and leaned closer.

“I think you meant something specific, there was something you meant.  About my appearance?”

His eyes dropped to her lips and he breathed out, “Your mouth,” before leaning forwards the rest of the way and kissing her.

Of course, being royalty, and having been arranged since they were children, they’d never kissed anyone before, and so they froze for a moment, merely the press of lips on lips.  Slowly, John was propelled first, by a force as old as time itself.  He shifted his mouth and tilted his head, prompting her to follow his lead.  She did, learning quickly, wrapping one arm around his neck to hold him closer.  His free hand touched her waist, unsure and a little bit afraid.

Soon though, they both pulled away, breathing heavily.  “Do you know what I thought about you?” Rose asked under her breath before taking in another gulp of air.

“What did you think about me?” He asked, sounding both distracted and curious at the same time.

“You have excellent hair, and I was afraid to let myself dare to feel anything for a man in a portrait, but then I met you, and you’re _kind,_ Prince John, you are so kind.”

He kissed her again, slower this time, both his hands cupping her cheeks now.  They learned the rhythm together now, working their way around the other’s mouth with care.  They found themselves very lost in each other, arms winding around each other, pulling each other indecently close, trying to justify in their own minds that they were engaged after all.

A knock at the door separated them with quick force.  The Queen of Gallifrey called “John, are you in there?”

Rose bolted to the opposite side of the couch, smoothing her hair and wiping her mouth off.  John straightened his crown and picked up the book before calling out, “Yes, mother, we’re in here.”

Their parents entered, chattering loudly, shattering the tender moment that had crept between the Prince and Princess.  They noted the approved distance and all nodded to each other, sitting at different settees and watching them. 

“What are you doing?” King Peter asked, not skeptical, only confused.

“Princess Rose mentioned her headaches when it came to reading,” John said, his voice oddly steady, “And how much she loved it.  I thought I could read to her so that she wouldn’t have headaches but could still enjoy the books.

“That’s very kind!” Princess Jackie exclaimed.  “Please, don’t stop on our account.  Oh, Rose, I’ll have Dona fetch your needlepoint.”

Rose sighed inwardly and turned her gaze to John.  Oh, he could’ve been so much more ruffled if they’d only had a few more minutes alone together. 

She had a feeling there might be time for it later.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't figure out if they had outdoor seating in the regency era or not, but I didn't want them sitting on the floor in this next chapter.

Rose felt fidgety as John read steadily from the mystery book, only because their parents were sitting across form each other and she'd had her mouth on the Prince's not a half hour previous.  She all but buried her face in her needlepoint as she blushed from the memory.  She'd never been so bold, so...  _wanton._ However, there was something to be said about John.  There was something special about him.  She'd been attracted to men at balls that she'd been to, but she had never been so drawn to someone before.  She wanted to sit with him and talk for hours, and also kiss him some more.  She found she rather liked the kissing, which she had to admit, came as a bit of a shock.

John sifted in his seat and Rose's breath hitched at the movement, causing her to stab herself with her needle by accident.  She cleared her throat gently and focused on creating the tiny lilacs on her needlepoint.  He gave her a concerned glance but went back to what he was reading.  She liked the story he was reading, it was intriguing and something she would've picked to read for herself.  However, she was also having trouble focusing on it. 

It seemed as though their parents were getting a bit bored.  The Queen of Gallifrey interrupted her son.  "John, you don't have to read the whole book," She said, laughing a bit to offset the comment.

John looked up at her and blinked, as though he hadn't heard her at all but was just looking up at her because he realized she was in the room.  "You don't want to start a mystery novel and not finish it," he said simply, casting a glance over at Rose, who nodded appreciatively at his comment.

The Queen gave her companions an exasperated look and they all giggled.  "Perhaps," the Queen of Gallifrey said thoughtfully, "You would like to have a picnic, just the two of you?"

John lifted an eyebrow.  "Alone?"

"There would be servants on the premise, but come now, John, we don't want to read that book."

"I would be interested in hearing the rest of the book," Rose piped up, barely looking up from her needlepoint as she said so.

"You see?" John said, "Princess Rose has never read this book before, and I should dare say we both want to finish it."

Rose nodded in response.  

"I think a picnic is a fine idea," the King of Gallifrey said hastily before his wife could chime in.  "I shall have the servants handle the preparation of the food for you both."

John would've protested that they could fix it, but he knew that it wouldn't have made any difference, his mother only would have shaken her head at him and told him that that's what the servants were  _for,_ to serve.  So he clamped his mouth shut and nodded.  The King of Gallifrey exited the room, on his way to the kitchens, no doubt.  

"You'll love it, Princess Rose, we've received a beautiful outdoor table as a gift.  They're not popular by any means, but it's a lovely little thing, I expect you'll enjoy it."

Rose nodded and tried not to stare up at the lavish ceiling instead of her future in laws.  "Oh, that does sound rather lovely, my Queen."

"Yes, Rose, perhaps we should retire to the table at the gardens now?" He suggested a touch impatiently.  "Get settled, perhaps bring some wine?"

Rose nodded borderline furiously.  "Prince John, I think that's a lovely idea.  Shall we?"

The Queen of Gallifrey smiled, seeming to be pleased with how well they were getting on.  She stood, bringing the rest of the company to their feet out of respect.  "I will send servants out to monitor you," she said primly, "Should you need us for anything, we will be in drawing room."

"Yes, of course, mother," John said, clasping the book, now closed, in both hands.  He seemed to move as though to take her hand but remembered how unacceptable that was and shoved his elbow out instead.  She took it, sliding her arm all the way through his.  The King and Queen of Powell exchanged a smile with the King of Gallifrey before they preceded their children from the room.  

Rose drummed her fingers against John's arm anxiously and he gave her a reassuring squeeze in response.  He offered her a smile and she returned it.  They were both a little nervous to be around each other after what they'd done in the library before their parents had interrupted them.  John was itching to talk about it, he wanted to speak with her until their voices were hoarse.  She only squeezed his arm again and they were led to the gardens.  

There were servants milling about in the garden, tending to the plants.  They rose to greet the royalty and the King of Gallifrey easily dismissed them back to their business after telling them to please watch the Prince and Princess, if you please.  They all murmured assent and went back to their work, tossing looks in the direction of the betrothed every once in a while.  Rose sighed heavily and looked at John.  "Do you think the commoners get to court without servants?" She whispered to him. 

He gave her a weak smile and lifted a shoulder.  "I wouldn't know, but if they do, I certainly envy them."

The outdoor seating was all kinds of beautiful.  The table and chairs were of simple wood, and it was clear that these things were not necessarily meant for royalty initially, but they were painted white and fit the atmosphere around them quite well.  A servant hurried over and placed a small vase with a single daisy in it, and Rose murmured her thanks to the woman.

They were seated and two goblets of wine were brought out.  Rose took a sip from hers immediately, feeling the need to feel a buzz in the back of her head to distract her from everything that was going through her head.  At the moment, there seemed to be quite a lot.  Their lunch was light, full of cheeses and breads and fruits, and she found herself staring at him more than once.  She took a long swig of wine.  It was really very odd, how much she wanted to be close to him, despite wanting to keep her distance before.

Oh, would they ever be alone?  She looked over at John and he raised his eyebrows.

"What?" She asked, wondering if she'd done something wrong.

"We could escape," he said simply, casting a glance around before asking, "If you want."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going well for John and Rose, but the Queen of Gallifrey is starting to doubt her own decisions for her son's marriage

Rose felt her eyebrows creep towards her hairline. "Escape?" She set down the delicate fork she'd been using to spear fruit with and leaned closer to him to whisper, "Escape from being  _royalty?"_

"Oh, no!" He said suddenly, and a bit too loudly, as several servants looked up at him.  He dismissed their glances with a wave and turned back to her.  "Just from the castle."

She was intrigued, and felt her heart rate speed up at the very notion of escape.  She shifted in her seat and nodded determinedly.  "Alright," she agreed, "How would you suggest we escape.  There is a wall around the castle."

"There are vines we can scale by the east wing of the castle," John said in a low, confidential tone.  "I can climb first and help you over, and we can run to the lake on the far side of the village."

His voice, in combination with the most thrilling idea she'd ever heard, were enough to convince her.  She nodded again, nearly violently this time.  "Yes, I think we should do that.  It's impossible to spend any real time together without an audience."

John threw her an incredibly winning smile, pleased that she trusted him enough to go with him on this little adventure.  "We'll have to pretend we're going for a leisurely stroll and then make a break for it," he said, demonstrating with the motions of his hand.  She watched and then smiled at him.  It was settled, then, that's what they would do.

John stood and offered his arm to her.  He noticed that every time he offered her his arm, she tried to touch a bit more of him.  The servants paid them little mind as they started walking in the gardens, swerving more towards the East wing as they walked.  One or two would look up form their work as the royalty passed, but other than that no one was staring at them or watching their every move. 

As they started to get out of the view of their many chaperones, John leaned down towards Rose's ear.  "Run," he said softly, and, grinning madly, they let go of each other and started to run, Rose picking up her skirts to give herself less of a chance to trip, and they gained on the wall quickly.  

John, being a gentleman, started to go up the vines first, ensuring they were sturdy enough for Rose to follow, and also showing her that he was not about to objectify her by letting her go first.  He made it to the top in record time, his years of fencing and jousting training paying off immensely.  He beckoned for her once he was at the top of the wall and she tied the bottom part of her skirt in a knot to aid her efforts.  Throwing a look over her shoulder to make sure no one was following them (no one was) she turned to the vines and pulled herself up the vines.  It took her a longer time to get to the top, but John reached down the second she was close enough and pulled her up by her armpits.  

Going down proved to be a bigger challenge, and John threw Rose a guilty smile.  "We're going to have to throw ourselves into the bushes," he said to her. 

Rose laughed.  "Alright then. Me first!"  She shuffled past him during the far side of the wall and simply tipped over the edge, falling into the tons of shrubbery at the bottom of the wall.  It broke her fall easily and it took her a few moments to roll out onto the grass.  John followed once she was safely out, hitting the bushes with a soft 'oof'.  Rose untied the knot in her skirt as she righted herself but held part of her skirt in one hand.  John got to his feet and reached for her free hand, even though they were very much 'in the public eye' and it was incredibly indecent.  He pulled her along, both of them grinning like mad idiots.  John knew the way to the lake, and Rose did not, so she let him guide her, was happy to let him, if she was honest.  She was tired of hiding from him, and especially after their kisses, she wasn't going to anymore. 

It took them a good ten minutes to reach the lake at a top sprint, both of them sweating.  John took his hand from hers to to take his jacket off and throw it to the ground, leaving his top half only in a puffy white shirt.  She tried not to scare and wiped her forehead of perspiration.  He watched the motion hungrily, as though his life depended on just where that sweat of hers was going. 

"We're completely secluded," he said to her, "You know, the palace is almost as isolated as it gets, and this is farther away than even that."

She wanted to kiss him again.   _Badly._ She wanted to kiss him again  _badly._   She licked her lips, watching his mouth, hoping he'd be the one to approach her.  He did, slowly, and cupped her cheek in one of his hands, the other one hanging helplessly at his side.  Rose let her eyes flutter closed and tilted her chin up to him, the wind blowing across her face, cooling her sweat from her skin.

His hesitation was at a minimum as he leaned down and captured her lips with his.  He was gentle and thorough in the exploration of her mouth, knowing that now they had all the time in the world, as they were endlessly far away from civilization, and John knew his mother would never look for them here. 

They separated slowly, resting their foreheads together and breathing heavily.  Rose's eyes were still closed as she reached her hands up to touch his chest.  "Prince John," She whispered, "I had it in my mind that I didn't really want to wed you, before I met you, but now I feel as though I want to marry you tomorrow."

"John."

She opened her eyes and stared at him.  "What?"

"No Prince in there, just John."

She smiled at him and slid her hands around his neck before playfully tugging at the hair at the base of his neck.  "Just Rose, here."

He smiled at her and kissed her forehead before pulling her into his arms.  She went willingly, her face tucked into the crook of his neck and eyes closed.  John's hands were splayed across her back, holding her indecently close, and he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for it, like he should've.  He was quickly becoming obsessed with the feel of her in his arms, and he delighted in the fact that she was his to hold forever. 

"It's quick," She said softly, her voice muffled by his shirt and his skin.  He tipped his cheek onto the top of her head. 

"What's quick, my Rose?"

She held him tighter at his words.  "How quick I'm falling in love with you."

He was grinning like a madman as he moved to look her in the face.  "Then we are both very fast human beings," he said, making her giggle.  He loved that giggle.

They laid down in the grass, staring up at the sky, the lake lapping close to their feet.  That, at least, was innocent, as there was at least six inches of space between them.  Rose closed her eyes, reveling in the low rumble of his voice as it rolled over her.  They spoke of their lives before they met, and Rose tried to distract him from the life and death decisions he'd had to make.  They weren't fair, but they weren't his fault, and she hoped that someday she would be able to convince him that he wasn't a monster. 

****************

The Queen of Gallifrey paced in the throne room, the other Kings and Queen standing with her, looking very worried indeed.

"Where did they go?" She asked, wringing her hands in front of her.  "Where could they possibly have gone, and how did they leave the castle without being spotted?"

King Peter rubbed at his forehead, his crown slipping askew before his wife fixed it for him.  "I don't know, my Queen, I really don't.  Are there any places Prince John frequents when he leaves the castle?"

"He doesn't leave the castle."

Queen Jackie blinked.  "Oh."  She looked guilty at the other King and Queen.  "Are you... Doubting your decisions, to choose Rose as the Prince's betrothed?"

The King of Gallifrey shook his head.  "Of course not, Queen Jackie.  I assure you, Rose is quite a lovely girl and we are already quite fond of her."

Queen Jackie offered a modest smile and turned to Prince Peter.  "Come, husband, we must dress for supper and prepare for our return to Powell tomorrow."  She looked at the Queen's face, tight with worry. "My Queen, I'm sure they are safe."

The Queen of Gallifrey nodded.  "Yes.  I have sent servants to search for them in the village.  It is the only place they would think to go."

The royalty standing in the throne room all discussed supper before departing from each other.  Once they were gone, the Queen of Gallifrey turned to her husband.  "I fear Princess Rose is a bad influence on our son."

The King of Gallifrey raised his eyebrow in a motion not unlike his son's.  "I think she's lovely.  He adores her, truly.  The way they look at each other is almost unlike anything I have ever seen before.  If you rescind this marriage, my wife, I fear that I will have to stop you."

"A King can't rule when he is fighting against every rule given to him," The Queen replied.

"He is young and she is a free spirit.  I doubt they are getting into any true trouble, especially if they are in the village.  Do not stand in the way of their happiness, wife.  There was a time when your mother would have done the same to us."

The Queen resisted the urge to lower her head.  "Of course, you are right, my husband.  But if she continues with this behavior, I will be forced to try to convince you."

"A noble quest, my Queen," he smiled at her and kissed her forehead.  "Cease your worrying, they will without doubt be back for supper.  A young man cannot resist food."

The Queen watched as her husband exited the room and muttered, "It is not the food I am worrying about him not resisting."

****************

Rose and John had ended up much closer to each other, her head pillowed on his shoulder as they dozed together in the sunlight.  John touched her shoulder gently and found that her skin was delightfully warm.  He kissed the crown of her head and laid back again, his eyes closing.  "I don't want to go back," he whispered.

"We must," she replied, her hand squeezing around his waist.  "Are you afraid your parents will be angry with you?"

"Yes," he admitted.  "But if you are there with me I don't think I should be more afraid."

Afraid herself, of this new step in boundaries between them, tilted her head and pressed a kiss to the underside of his chin.  "Come now, my Prince."  She sat back on her knees, staring down at him, laying in the grass, his jacket spread out below them.  He was beautiful, his eyes shining in the sunlight, which was dipping a bit behind the trees.  

He was staring at her intently and sat up before kissing her fiercely.  They were both getting quite good at it, her hands immediately going to clench in his shirt and hers wrapping around her shoulders.  He chanced opening his mouth over hers and they carefully explored each other's mouths.  When they pulled apart, it was because neither of them could physically breathe any more.  

She grinned at him.  "How long must we court before we are married?" 

He laughed and stood before picking his jacket up and then pulling her to her feet.  Aware that he had stains on the back of his shirt, he pulled his jacket on and put it on properly.  "Let's go home, Rose."

She felt her heart swell with something she wanted to call love as she took his hand and he led her back to the palace.


	7. Chapter 7

John and Rose were a bit blinded by their affections and didn't seem to notice that they were both a little dirty.  Not intentionally, of course, but they had laid in the grass, and so the back of her dress had a bit of dirt on it, and their hair was messy from laying on it.  Both of them were stupidly happy, though, and couldn't keep from grinning and chatting the whole way back.  

They held hands, aware of the impropriety and accepting it for what it was.  She liked it, the feel of his fingers, warm and sweaty, between hers.  She swung their hands happily as they spoke to one another, admiring his expressive features as he told her stories.

"There are villages that are rather beautiful, but some are still impoverished," he was explaining, his brows furrowed.  "I just want to fix it, and I know my father does as well, and he's tried, but I want to succeed at it.  No one should be living in squalor, especially not in a kingdom like this."

Rose watched him with concern.  "You know, there's plenty of things you'll be able to do when you're king," she said softly, "We could visit them, give them money."

"I'm afraid we wouldn't have the time, Rose.  We're such a busy kingdom, and it's so huge," he heaved a heavy sigh and tugged her close to his side.  "I just want to make a difference.  I want to be remembered because I was a good king, who tried to help everyone as best he could."

Rose squeezed his hand.  "You can be that King.  You're already kind and you feel compassion like no one I've ever met before.  I promise, John, you'll be like no other king before you."  She leaned up to kiss his cheek and he gave her a smile that was unmatched in its happiness.  

They finally made it to the palace, though it seemed that it took ages to get there, mostly because they weren't running this time.  John pulled her around to the front gate, seeing no need to sneak back in since everyone probably knew, for certain, that they had escaped that afternoon.  John called for a guard and a very startled looking man ran out, his uniform askew as he threw the gate open and threw his fist over his heart.  "Prince John!  Your mother is worried sick!  Princess Rose.  Oh, thank God you're both safe!  You could've been in danger!"

John watched the man guiltily.  "Well...  We weren't, we were at the lake."

The guard furrowed his brows in worry.  "You must speak with your mother.  They are sitting down for supper as we speak, I'm afraid you'll have to go as you are."

Rose dropped her gaze and nodded solemnly.  John squeezed her hand encouragingly.  "Yes, of course.  Thank you."

"My pleasure, your majesty," he said, stepping away to let them in.  John led Rose through the front gate and into the palace.  They arranged themselves so they were no longer touching and walked into the dining hall.

The Queen of Gallifrey was the first to look up.  "Well, it's about time the two of you decided to show up!" She said, getting to her feet, causing the rest of the table to scramble to standing as she stared the young couple down.

"I'm sorry, mother, we lost track of time."

"It's not the time that's lost, it's the trust," The Queen replied scoldingly.  "I am positively livid that you have run away, first of all, and you both look a fright!  What have you been doing?"  She looked scandalized, and John realized he was going to have to immediately set his mother straight as to what they'd been doing.

"We went to the lake," John said quickly, "We just watched the water and talked."

Rose was impressed with her ability to fight down a blush as she thought of all the kissing they did by the lake.  She nodded in agreement.  "Yes," she said, "No one saw us, my Queen, if that's what you're worried about."

The Queen of Gallifrey narrowed her eyes, "There are plenty of things I am worried about," she said.  "The two of you, without a chaperone, the  _scandal."_ She crossed her arms.  "The two of you will never, ever, be allowed out of my sight again until the day of your wedding!" 

Rose looked down, utterly chastised.  She found herself biting back tears at the prospect of having already upset the woman that she was going to be related to.  The King of Gallifrey walked over to Rose and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.  Rose forced herself to look up into his kind face. 

"Princess Rose, do not be too upset by my wife's response.  I was young once, too."

"Husband!"

"Rose," Queen Jackie pleaded, "Please just try to control yourself next time."

John's gaze snapped to the other queen.  "No, Queen Jackie, it wasn't Princess Rose's fault.  It was mine.  It was my idea to escape.  I wanted us to talk without people staring at us."

"That is not your decision to make," The Queen of Gallifrey scolded.  "That is unfair to the servants, who were positively frantic all afternoon, and it is disrespectful to the traditions of our kingdom.  You have also showed intense disrespect to the King and Queen of Powell.  Apologize immediately."

John nodded slowly and stepped around his mother and his father (who was comforting Rose, still) and stood before Queen Jackie and King Peter.  "I'm sorry I've taken your daughter out of your sight without your permission," he said honestly, his voice steady and clear.  "It was truly wrong, and I apologize for it tenfold.  I hope you won't remove your daughter from Gallifrey because of it."

King Peter's eyebrows shot up into his hairline.  "Of course not!" He said, "It is clear that you and our daughter have found feelings for each other that Queen Jackie and I didn't have when we were arranged.  You are terribly lucky to have found this."

"I agree," the King of Gallifrey piped up, moving from Rose's side.  "And seeing as though there have been apologies and clarifications, I say we let the whole incident go and have a nice lovely supper, don't you think?  It is the last one that King Peter and Queen Jackie will be spending with us."

The Queen of Gallifrey looked incredibly put out, but she nodded, not willing to face the wrath of her husband. She would definitely not want to face what he had to dish out because of the circumstances.  The King of Gallifrey was fond of Rose, he thought she was good for his son.  The way they looked at each other was unlike anything else.  The King wasn't sure another woman would look at John quite the way Rose looked at him.  All he wanted was for them to be happy, and if they were happy gallivanting to the lake, then so be it.

"But, you will require a chaperone from now on," the King said reluctantly.

Rose nodded enthusiastically, "Of course, your Majesty," she agreed heartily.  

"Rose's lady in waiting, Donna, will be happy to take the job," Queen Jackie said, and King Peter nodded alongside her.  "She's a lovely woman, honest and virtuous."

The Queen of Galllifrey watched the other King and Queen for a moment, and then nodded slowly.  "Alright, yes, I suppose that would be best.  Perhaps they won't feel the need to escape when they are with someone familiar."

Everyone sat down to supper then, and King Peter made sure that everything was smooth and the conversation easy.  Soon everything was very normal, the six people at the table chatting, the lake incident forgotten until Rose was escorted back to her chambers for the night.  She knew something was afoot when her mother followed her up.

"Rose _Marion,_ what did you do with that Prince?" She demanded the second the door shut behind them.

Rose shook her head as Donna entered and began brushing her hair. "Nothing happened, mother, I promise.  But I learned so much about him.  He is desperate to help the poor, he thinks no one should live in those impoverished conditions.  He is so kind, mother."

"I told you he was a good one, my lady," Donna said, a bit arrogant.  

Rose giggled, "That you did, Donna."

"He is a good man, Queen Jackie, he'll never do anything to take advantage of your daughter."

Rose looked pleadingly up at her mother.  "He's wonderful, mother."

Queen Jackie's face softened, "And you really do feel something for him?" She asked.

Rose met her mother's gaze. "I did not expect to," she promised, "I didn't want to... But then I met him, and he spoke to me, and I... I feel for him more strongly than I could for anyone else, I believe."  She wrung her hands.  "I do think i could love him."

Donna helped Rose dress for bed and left the room to her own part of the quarters.  Queen Jackie left as well, feeling a little afraid that the Queen of Gallifrey would find reasons to hate her daughter.  Rose crawled under the covers and closed her eyes, expecting a peaceful night.

Well, one doesn't always get what they expect. 


	8. Chapter 8

The sound of rustling from outside her door woke Rose up several hours into the night.  She sat up in bed, squinting into the darkness.  She heard the rustling get closer and then footsteps retreated into the distance.  Rose furrowed her brows and stood up, padding over to the door.  Someone had slipped a piece of parchment under the door, folded over several times.  She picked it up and took it back to bed with her.  It took her a few fumbling attempts to light the candle on the bedside table, but once she'd finally got it, she unfolded the paper and looked at it.

_My Dear Princess Rose,_

_Meet me in the library if you are awake and receive this.  We can finish our novel._

_Yours,  
Prince John_

Rose found herself grinning stupidly down at the note and decided to take things into her own hands.  She wasn't used to getting dressed without Donna's help, but she figured she could manage.  She got into a light summer dress of pale green and, though it took her much longer than it would have if Donna was there.  She put on a cloak for extra coverage, and slipped her feet into a pair of slippers that matched her dress.  Taking the note and candle in hand, she walked down the hallways, trying to remember her way to the library.

She really couldn't remember where it was, but she did remember the doors, so she wandered around for a bit before coming across the doors.  There was a touch of light streaming under the door, telling her that someone was occupying it, having lit the candles that adorned the library walls.  She took a deep breath and reached for the door handle before snatching it back.  Was this really a good idea?  She didn't know if it would be appropriate, but really, not many things she had done with John had been appropriate, and she didn't imagine he'd try to take advantage of her in a library.  Though Rose had to admit that she wouldn't have minded in the slightest if he had.  The very idea made her blush violently.

Debating with herself for what felt like ages, she knocked on the door.  She heard footsteps, and her heart raced as she thought about John opening the door, smiling widely at her.  Maybe he'd kiss her again, shower her in more adoration, say things to her that made her blood sing.  She would've wrung her hands had she not a candle in one of them.  

Suddenly the door was swung right open and the smugly smiling face of the Queen of Gallifrey.  She looked over Rose, who felt her heartbeat stutter with fear.  She felt her hand clench on the candle, making the flame shake.  

"Come in, dear," The Queen said, opening the door further and beckoning for Rose to enter.  Rose knew better than to refuse, walking quickly past the Queen and standing in the middle of the lavish library.  She swallowed around the lump in her throat, knowing she had done something wrong.  After all, she'd had to debate it before she'd come here, and that very bit of information should've told her that it was wrong.  She had the decency to lower her head. 

The Queen walked further in and stood before Rose. She pried the candle from the Princess's hand and blew it out before setting it on a little book table.  "Have a seat, Princess Rose.  I think it's time we had a talk."

Rose stood in front of a chair that was across from the couch.  She waited until the Queen sat to take her seat and she sat up perfectly straight when she did, clasping her hands together tightly in her lap.

"You assumed that my son would be the one meeting you here tonight," the Queen said.  "Because of a silly little note.  Are you that easily persuaded, Princess Rose?"

Rose shook her head.  "No," she said simply, "I am not."

"Then why, may I ask, did a note in the middle of the night prompt you to walk here?  It really is most inappropriate."

Rose hung her head.  "I know, your Majesty.  I was... I was wrong."

"You only admit you were wrong because you got caught," the Queen corrected.  "Do you know what this means?  And look me in the face,  _please."_

Rose lifted her eyes out of obligation and swallowed audibly.  "I do not know what it means, your Majesty."

The Queen adjusted one of her rings and stared the Princess down.  "It means you are not fit to marry my son.  We will speak with your parents, and my son, in the morning.  That way you will not be able to tell any tales at morning meal.  You and your parents will return to Powell as a family unit."

Rose felt her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.  "No!  No, your Majesty, please.  I've never felt anything like I do for Prince John."

"My son will be married to a woman who can keep to herself as much as she can keep to him.  You, my dear, are not that woman."

"But, I-"

"Enough!" The Queen shouted, shooting to her feet and sending Rose to a standing position as well.  "I have had enough of your lip, Princess Rose, and you will not marry my son, and that is final.  Be prepared to tell the true story tomorrow at morning meal, or you will not leave Gallifrey with your dignity in tact.  Do we understand each other?"

Rose's heart sank to her stomach, and she felt like being sick and crying all at the same time.  She nodded.  "Yes, your Majesty, I understand."

"Good." The Queen laced her fingers together in front of her and nodded.  "Now, you'd best go to your quarters and get some sleep.  You've a long trip ahead of you tomorrow."

Feeling as though nothing would ever be right again, Rose was not able to make eye contact with the Queen as she nodded again and exited the library.  It was not long before she heard the door shut behind her.  It was clear that the Queen was not going to help her get back to her quarters.  She bit back her tears and fled down the halls, trying not to be blinded by emotions.  She barely heard the door open through everything she was feeling and a voice call out "Rose?"

She turned around and saw the Prince, looking tousled and lovely and sleepy, standing in the doorway of the room.  His brow was furrowed and he watched her as though her safety was the only important thing in the world.  The thought only made her yearn for him.  She took the steps forward to stand before the Prince and cupped his cheeks in her hands.  He looked startled, and rightly so.  He stared down into her face, searching her eyes as his hands came up to touch her waist.  She tugged him down and brought him into a deep, searching kiss, pouring everything she felt for him into it, because she needed to, needed him to know, even if she could never say it with words.

He made a startled sound that told her that he was shocked by this turn of events.  His grip on her tightened and he tried to pull her back into his room, but she forced herself to resist.  This was farewell after all, and he was trying to drag her into a beginning.  She pulled away first, tipping her forehead against his.  He smoothed one of his hands soothingly up and down her back, using the other one to still hold her tightly.

"Rose," he said, his voice low and husky, "I really-"

"Hush," She said, biting back tears.  "I'm sorry."

He pulled away to look her in the face but did not loosen his grip on her.  "Rose, what's wrong?"

She stroked his cheek with her thumb.  "I love you," she said simply, "I do.  I promise.  Don't ever forget that."

John scrunched his brows. "There's no need to forget, Rose, I love you too, as long as we live, we'll be together."

Rose closed her eyes.  "I"m sorry," she whispered, "I never meant to hurt you."

She pulled away from him and he tried to grasp at her, but she was too quick.  Giving him one last, lingering look, she turned tail and ran down the hallway, leaving him calling after her.  She knew he wouldn't follow, though, would be afraid of getting caught, and for that, she was grateful.

She somehow made it to her quarters with no incident.  Once inside, she stripped down to her nightshift and threw her dress back in her trunk before collapsing on the bed and crying herself to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The next AU will be up soon, it's a bit more modern and I'm really excited for it, so I hope you guys like it!   
> Thanks for all the love on this one, it means so much!

Donna was aware that her charge was not feeling well.  She seemed as though she had a heavy heart, and as Donna brushed her hair, she debated on whether or not to ask her about how she was feeling.  Finally, as she helped Rose into her dress for the day, a soft purple one that was more than a little flowy, she decided to ask.  "My lady, what's wrong?"

Rose lifted her face to look at Donna, blinking back tears.  "I've done something very wrong, Donna," she said.  Donna, feeling her heart lurch for the Princess, pulled her into a hug.  Rose continued to bite back her tears but squeezed Donna around the waist in a big hug.  Donna felt like a mother to her, and she was currently feeling her young charge's pain.  Rose took a deep shuddering breath and the whole story spilled out (minus seeing John in the hall) and Donna listened, her heart breaking for the Princess as she listened.

"I love him," Rose whispered.  "I do.  I love him, and now I have to leave."

Donna pulled away from Rose and gripped her shoulders.  "I'm not going to back your bags just yet, my lady, we'll fight for this yet," she said fiercely and headed for the door.  Rose furrowed her brows.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to find the Prince!" Donna said as she left the room.

Donna had been to Gallifrey before, years before she worked for the King and Queen of Powell and had taken Rose on as her charge.  She had known the Prince, and was rather fond of the young man.  She knew if he knew about the situation, he would not be willing to say goodbye to Rose.  She knocked heavily on the Prince's door, when she reached it, and he opened the door, looking worried and like he hadn't gotten any sleep.

"Where's Rose?" He asked immediately.  

"On her way out if we don't do something," Donna replied, "Your mother tricked her last night and is sending her away today."

Prince John's face went white as he realized exactly what Donna meant.  Suddenly, her strange behavior last night made sense.  He put a hand to his face and tried to process everything.  "We can't- I won't send her away, Donna, I can't."

Donna's face softened and she laid a hand on his shoulder.  "I know, Prince John.  But you'll have to speak up for yourself today if that's the case," she said, "Everything you and Rose have gone through together leads to this moment, you understand that, don't you?"

John nodded solemnly.  "Yes."  He said firmly.  "And I'm willing to fight for Princess Rose.  If I have to I'll return to Powell with her family.  I won't leave her."

Donna's shoulders sagged with relief.  "I was hoping you'd say something like that.  Now prepare yourself, my Prince, for this will be the longest morning meal you will ever have."

The atmosphere was tense the moment everyone sat down for morning meal.  Rose avoided eye contact with anyone even as John tried to catch her eyes.  All he wanted was for her to look at him, and she wasn't even doing that.  He knew she hadn't done anything wrong, and was furious that she had been manipulated in this way.  She was sitting across from him this morning, and so he slid his foot out to poke her leg under the table.  She lifted her eyes slowly and he offered her a small smile.  She returned it, but it was still a bit watery and nothing like the beaming grins he was accustomed to seeing from her. 

"I'm sure you all wonder why the mood has settled so low among those at this table," The Queen of Gallifrey said, smiling as she looked around the table.

King Peter nodded.  "I'm sure we all do, my Queen," he said carefully.  "And it would appear that you know exactly what has caused it."

"I do indeed," the Queen replied.  "Last night, I'm afraid our dear, sweet, Princess Rose set out to incriminate herself and my son."

"I didn't!" Rose blurted out.

"Hush!"

The King of Gallifrey rubbed his forehead tiredly.  "Just tell the story without the slander, my wife."

"As you wish," the Queen replied.  "Seeing as how Prince John and Princess Rose ran away from us yesterday, and therefore compromised themselves, I wondered if Princess Rose would be persuaded to do so again.  I forged a note from my dear son and slid it under her door in the late hours of the night, telling her to meet her Prince in the library.  She arrived soon after the note was left, expecting to see my son and meeting with me instead."

"Excuse me," Queen Jackie said, keeping her voice calm although her hands were clenched at the tablecloth at her lap.  "I do not appreciate this manipulation of my daughter."

"Nor do I," King Peter agreed.

"And I agree with the both of them," the King of Gallifrey spoke up.  "What would you expect a woman in love to do, wife?  Would you not have followed a note sent by me when we were courting?"

The Queen furrowed her brows.  "That is hardly the point," she snapped.  "The point is that she would continue to incriminate herself would she be allowed to stay here.  As it stands, I believe she should return home to Powell with her parents when they leave this very afternoon."

Rose hung her head, knowing very well that she couldn't say anything to change the Queen's mind.  She had ruined her only chance at happiness.  When the neighboring kingdoms heard of how their engagement had been broken, no one would be willing to marry her.  She would rule as a lone Queen, and Powell would crumble.  

"No." 

She looked up to see Prince John staring intently at her across the table, his jaw working and creating an angry dimple in his cheek.  He directed his gaze to his mother.  "IF she leaves, mother, I'm leaving with her."

The Queen sputtered furiously, "You most certainly will not!"

"Powell will crumble because of your selfishness, mother, and I think you know that," John said.  "So, I will travel to Powell with my betrothed, and Gallifrey will be the one that crumbles.  Understood?"

"You will not tell me what to do.  You are  _not_ going with them."

The King of Gallifrey had apparently had enough of being passive.  He leaned back in his seat.  "You really expect me to let you get away with this?" He said calmly, directing the question to his wife.  

She turned her head to stare at him.  "You do not agree?"

"No," Every other person but Rose replied.  

The Queen blinked.  "Certainly you understand the impropriety that your daughter has shown, King Peter, Queen Jackie.  She has blatantly disobeyed the rule to have a chaperone, and was about to do the very same thing in the middle of the night!  How can you condone this?"

"How can you condone manipulating our daughter into her own demise?" Queen Jackie replied sharply.  

King Peter nodded in agreement.  "If you want us to leave, we will, but you will not blame Rose's 'impropriety' as you call it, for the reason the engagement was broken."

"For God's sake, it was my idea to abandon the chaperones the first time!" Prince John shouted, his royal manner dropping quickly.  "So if anyone was showing impropriety, it was me, and then I should be sent away.  In which case, I request being sent away to Powell.  I will follow Princess Rose wherever she should go."

"No one's going anywhere," the King of Gallifrey said calmly.  "My wife, you should really apologize to the King and Queen of Powell, and Princess Rose for being quite so horrible to her.  I can't imagine she would even want to stay with our family after what you have done, but I hope that what she feels for our son will be enough to keep her here."

Rose stayed silent, afraid to say anything.  Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was watching everyone at the table with rapt attention.  She opened and closed her mouth, not sure what to say or do.  She wanted to stay, she really did, but for some reason was having trouble voicing it.  

"I should say so!" Queen Jackie was saying.  "Our daughter has been nothing but good to you people, and we will not leave without her unless she feels she will not be attacked again here."

The Queen set her jaw and turned to her husband.  "You condone late night visits before marriage then?" She demanded.

"Did she arrive displaying nefarious intent?" The King asked, now sounding bored with the conversation.  He looked kindly at Rose.  "Did you, my dear?"

Rose shook her head, finding her tongue.  "No, your Majesty.  I think if you'll ask the Queen she can tell you that I arrived wearing dayclothes and a cloak, expecting us to finish our novel, as the note that was supposedly from John, stated."

John smiled across the table with her.  "I think I would've rather bored you with reading in the middle of the night," he teased.

She grinned back at him, one of her cheerful smiles he was so used to.  "If I'd fallen asleep, at least I would've gotten rest."

The King looked at his wife and narrowed his eyes.  "So you put in this note that John would've wanted to finish the novel they started yesterday?" He asked for clarification.

The Queen nodded, "Well, yes."

"So you're saying that if you had suggested nefarious intent in the letter, that Rose would have appeared?"

"She probably would have," the Queen replied airily.

"I wouldn't have," Rose retorted.  "I would've known it wasn't John."

The King held out his hand.  "And there we have it, my wife."

"Would you rather us leave regardless?" King Peter asked.

"No!" John shouted, then cleared his throat, reigning himself in.  "If... If you would allow Princess Rose to stay, I would still very much love to take her as my wife," he said, his voice suddenly proper.  Rose bit her lip to hold back a smile as John watched her parents anxiously.

Queen Jackie turned to look between the Queen and Rose and John.  "If that woman stays away form Rose as much as possible during this betrothal, I will allow it."

"I will as well," King Peter nodded, "We see how you feel for our daughter; this goes beyond mere arrangement. She can stay, if the lovely Queen of Gallifrey promises to keep her meddling to a minimum."

"Of course," the King of Gallifrey cut off his wife before she could even begin.  "I'm sorry that this little disagreement even got this far.  Rest assured, I will not allow my wife to insert herself into the business of our children.  She will not be allowed to be a chaperone for them, either."

"Husband!" 

"Hush!  You've caused enough trouble for one day, don't you think?" He turned his attention to the King and Queen of Powell.  "I apologize that your last day here in Gallifrey was like this."

King Peter waved a dismissive hand.  "Quite alright, everything was sorted just fine."

The Queen of Gallifrey stewed for the rest of breakfast, bu the King refused to let it spoil everyone else's, and so they chatted happily until the King and Queen of Powell had to depart.

King Peter and Queen Jackie bid their daughter goodbye on the front steps of the palace, Queen Jackie whispering that if everything was wrong they would rush up and get her.  Rose laughed and waved her mother off.

"I think I'll be just fine," she said, glancing over at John, who was looking at her with nothing short of adoration.

She tucked her arm through her fiance's as her parents' carriage left.  He looked down at her as she waved her parents away.  He chanced a kiss to the crown of her head, and she smiled up at him.

"You know what?" He whispered.  "I think we'll be just fine, too."

Donna said 'I told you so.'

* _Three Months Later*_

Rose stood, holding John's hands at the altar.  After what felt like endless months of courting with minimal touching (they'd had chaperones again and had to learn to not kiss each other all over again) she was standing before him in a long white dress and matching veil, her flowers given over to Donna, who was her matron of honor.  She'd married a Gallifrey house servant, Lee, not long after the King and Queen of Powell's departure.  Of course, they were back again, for this joyous day.

The time came in the ceremony for the groom to kiss the bride.  He pulled her close with his arms around her waist and lowered his head to hers.  She kissed him softly, her hands cupping his face.  The kiss probably lasted a bit too long, but they pulled away grinning at each other so one one could be bothered to be upset about it.

The King of Gallifrey furrowed his brows and then let out a loud laugh as he clapped along with the rest of the congregation.  He leaned over to the King of Powell, who was seated on his left.  "One might think they've done that before!"

King Peter's eyes widened, but he was laughing too.

**************

John led his new wife up their now shared room after the reception party, their fingers intertwined instead of her arm threaded through his.  He stroked his thumb over her hand and then released it to let her precede him into the room.  He followed after her and shut the door behind them.  She turned around and smiled at him, holding her hand out for him.  He was before her in an instant, kissing her like a man dying of thirst.  She giggled against his mouth and returned his affections until they had to pull away to breathe.  He lifted his hand to remove her veil, tossing it carelessly onto the vanity.  "You look beautiful," he told her breathlessly. 

"So are you," she said seriously, "Husband."

He shivered at the word and pulled her close again.  "I love you."

She removed his crown and set it over her veil before running her hands through his hair, thoroughly mussing it.  "I love you too."

"I love you more."

She couldn't resist laughing as he pulled the pins from her hair.  She kissed him softly again, reveling in the three words he gave her on a whisper.

"Forever, my Princess."


End file.
